


Spare The Rod

by nothfan



Category: The Lion in Winter (1968)
Genre: Corporal Punishment, Family Drama, Family Dynamics, Gen, M/M, Multi, Sibling Rivalry, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:42:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24378181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nothfan/pseuds/nothfan
Summary: Set in the late 11C based on the movie Loin in WinterThe Plantagenet family gather at King Henry’s Christmas Court. Family friction ensues. This is an extended scene set near the end of the movie. King Henry caught all his three Sons in King Philip of France’s quarters and accused of plotting against their father the boys are locked up. When Henry and Eleanor visit the boys Eleanor spesks this line in the movie, “Spar the rod and spoil those boys”  so in my story Henry decides to physically discipline all three of his sons.Contains corporal punishment/spanking with belt and by hand.The youngest of the boys is 16 and he gets the hand spanking, just to let you know.
Relationships: Henry Plantagenet & Eleanor of Aquitaine, king Henry II England & Geoffrey Plantagenet, king Henry II England & Prince John, richard “The Lionheart” of England & Geoffrey Plantagenet & John Plantagenet, richard “The Lionheart” of England & king Henry II of England
Kudos: 8





	Spare The Rod

The Lion In Winter:Spare The Rod

Prince Richard paced around his chambers, a goblet of wine in his hand. He was still fully dressed in spite the late hour, his only concession was the removal of his heavy leather tunic, replaced with a fur. He remained calm when the expected hammering on his door finally came. He slowly put down his wine and stepped over to the door and threw it open. Four guards stood outside, swords drawn, looking nervous. No doubt expecting Richard to put up a fight. At 26 Richard was a seasoned fighter and the eldest surviving Son of King Henry the Second, of England. But Richard was no fool and had no intention of engaging his father’s men. He lifted his fur to show he was unarmed and went with his escort.

As he was led through the passageways he was joined by his two brothers, also similarly escorted under guard. His middle Brother Geoffrey cast a silent glance in his direction and Richard shook his head. He didn’t know exactly what was happening but he had a fair idea what the cause was.

The three Plantagenet Princes had been caught in the young King Philip’s chambers that very night. Accused of plotting against their father...again. In Richards case it was more of a tryst with Philip than plotting, on this particular occasion. But Philip had denounced them all as part of various plots against Henry.

So Richard assumed they were awaiting their Fathers displeasure, which is sure to have built considerably in the hours proceeding the accusations. A very unfortunate incident, Richard had to admit. And wished his sniffling youngest brother old John would shut up. To that effect he sent a furious scowl in the brat’s direction and cuffed the nightshirt clad boy around the ear. Well at least it wasn’t the dungeons they were being taken too, well not yet. 

The brothers were shoved inside a narrow corridor and heavy doors slammed shut and barred. The older two walked forward and Richard took a torch from a wall sconce and proceeded forwards. They had been locked in one of the castle’s wine cellars it would appear. They continued into the main storage area and stood about, waiting. 

Prince John stood against one wall hugging himself, shivering with equal parts cold and terror. What was their father going to do to them. John tried to keep his thoughts away from the dungeons and there associations. He clung to the fact that he was his fathers favourite.

“I’m father’s favourite, he won’t hurt me,” he whined out loud.

Glad of the distraction, Richard turned to his baby brother and smiled coldly, maliciously,

“You were his favourite, you dunghill, sniffling brat. Who do you think will be his greatest disappointment? One of us,” he gestured between himself and Geoff, “or his little pet Johnny?”

John jumped to his feet enraged, “well he hates you, you’re mother’s favourite and she betrayed him first! And he’s proud of me, I’ve invented things, I can read...I’m not a stupid soldier!”He blurted.

Richard saw red and lunged at his younger brother, cursing, wanting to get his hands around the little wretches neck and squeeze the life out of him. He’d be doing the kingdom a favour if there was even the remotest chance the little fool became King.

Ever the peacemakers, when it suited his purposes, Geoffrey stepped between his brothers and shoved John away.

“Shut up, aren’t things bad enough without us squabbling among ourselves. Richard, enough!” He said with his hands on his older brother’s chest, pushing him back.

Disgusted, Richard turned away from his brothers and lapsed into silence. And the three young men awaited to find out their fate.

Queen Eleanor, wrapped in fur to ward off the chill, stepped out of her apartments. A commotion had disturbed her and she recognised Henry’s bellow. He was storming along with a retinue of his guard and stopped as he approached her.

“I have no sons! They have all betrayed me, and this time there will be no peace treatise, no forgiveness! Is this your doing you wretched woman?” He demanded.

“I have been locked away at your convenience this past ten years, dear Henry. Only rolled out for state appearances and the occasional holiday. When exactly am I meant to be arranging these plots Henry?” She asked with calm poise. 

“Richard is yours, do not tell you are not behind his machinations woman!”

“Richard is his own man, he doesn’t listen to his mother,” she lied smoothly. “Or his father it would appear,” she added with a smug thin lipped smile.

“Well they can languish in a cell for a few years, perhaps that will remind those boys who is the King! I’ll find another heir,” he blustered. Then stalked off with his guards in tow.

Eleanor pulled her furs closely around her and followed Henry. To see what the outcome would be and see if anything could be turned to her advantage. And a little drama was a welcome change of pace from being locked away. She always did enjoy these Christmas Courts. She hurried off to catch up with Henry.

The silence in the wine cellar was broken by the sound of the door being unbarred and voices drifted in. John sank down the wall he’d been leaning on, onto the floor were he hugged his knees up under his night shirt. He whimpered, “I’m his favourite,” trying to convince himself as he wiped at his dripping nose.

The older brothers stopped slouching and stood up straight as their father approached. They saw their Mother was also accompanying him. That pleased at least one of the boys, and Richard and Eleanor made brief eye contact. But his mother remained neutral, so Richard wasn’t sure he’d be getting any assistance from her. Resigned to his fate, as a soldier always was.

Henry blustered his disappointment in his ingrate sons and swore to disown them all.

“I have no sons! I shall divorce the Queen and marry Alais! She is not old and dried up, I will produce new heirs! And you traitorous brood will be thrown in the deepest of my dungeons to rot. If I don’t have you all executed!”

Prince John wailed and crawled over to his Mother and wrapped his arms around her legs and howling.

“Don’t do that dear,” Eleanor said as she looked down at her husband’s pimply favourite child in distaste.

“Alais is betrothed to me father “ Richard pointed out calmly.

“Silence!” Henry bellowed and looked over at John, who had been his intended successor. He’d only every wanted the best for his youngest son and the betrayal was crushing. His disappointment and fury at his sons betrayal was all that kept him for breaking down and weeping.

Eleanor gestured to her middle son to disentangle his little brother from around her legs. Once Geoffrey had obeyed her she drifted closer to her husband. Not in the slightest perturbed by his divorce threats, it was all part of an elaborate farce they had indulged in over the years. When Henry was in one of his moods or he’d become incensed over one of her intercepted letters. She knew just how bull headed her husband was and knew an outright appeal on Richards behalf would not be wise. Her other two boys were insignificant, she was not close to them. As she was to her adored warrior Richard, she thought fondly.

The youngest child, was or had been his father’s creature. An apt title for the uncouth, unwashed little thing. His father had done him no kindness by his over indulgence. Her middle son Geoffrey was equally at home in the saddle as he was at court. He was more like his father, if less volatile and more conniving. 

Eleanor shook her head slowly as she glanced at her husband sympathetically, as if sharing his deep disappointment in their sons. 

She glanced over at the princes, the older pair feigning indifference. While John continued to blubber on the ground.

“Spare the rod and spoil those boys,” she said solemnly.  
“And what is that meant to imply?” Henry ask suspiciously.

“Only that it may be wiser to correct the heirs you already have than breed more. And have to just hope to eventually have successor grow to adulthood. And we neither of us is getting any younger,” 

Henry’s eyes narrowed as he looked between his wife and sons, “correction, you say?”

“They are yours to do as you will, but as their father you do have a duty towards them.”

Henry thought this over, while he was still vey much in his prime at age 50. And considered himself more vigorous than many his junior. Did he really want to wait to produce another heir. Perhaps it wasn’t too late to mould John into the man he needed to be, if he were to become king eventually. He was also well aware that Richard was Eleanor’s only concern, but was she right? Spare the rod, he gave it consideration as he looked at his sons. 

“I will beat them! Yes, I have been an over indulgent father and the whelps have taken advantage of my good nature and love.” Henry declared. 

Eleanor inwardly relaxed, now that her dear boy Richard was no longer to be locked away for a number of years. Although he may not fully appreciate her intervention, if he was to receive a whipping. But she knew Richard was made of stern stuff and being a hardened warrior would stand him in good stead for a mere beating. 

“You will whip the children?” She asked unconcernedly. 

Henry took in her calm countenance and nodded curtly at her,  
“Whipping is too good for those boys, I will think of something more appropriate to their wilfulness. They will be humbled and brought to heel. They are my children and will do as I command! Boys! Come here,” he bellowed.

Richard and Geoffrey answered their fathers order but John stayed hunched on the floor, too afraid to move.

“I have decided not to punish you with confinement boys, you will each be thrashed. I have spoiled you pups, given you too much freedom to misbehave. And obviously not disciplined you near enough!” He jabbed a finger at Richard,

“As the elder, you should set a better example, you will be thrashed first, come here boy!” 

Henry said as he turned to his middle son,”fetch him, he can watch and learn obedience,” he gestured to the cowering John. Who howled and struggled as his brother dragged him up and followed their father.

Richard glared as he approached Henry but allowed himself to be gripped by the shoulder and led across the cellar. Henry took his son over to a table in one corner and with one hand swiped the clutter onto the floor. He had the boy move the bench out of the way.

Henry began to unfasten the thick leather belt from around his waist, and commanded the boy to undress. And watched while Richard removed his outer laters of clothing, then stopped him from removing his lined tunic. And pointed towards his breeches,

“It’s your backside I’m thrashing, get those down” he ordered and was ready to intervene if Richard balked at complying. But all his eldest did was glower darkly before barring his naked buttocks and leaning over the table. He gripped the far side with whitened buckles and waited. Henry took a position to the side of his eldest and slapped the belt down onto the center Richard’s backside. He heard the swish of the belt before it hit and slap of leather on his unprotected ass jolted Richard. But he made no sound, just tightening his grip. Determined not to react.

Henry added another and another stripe of the belt onto his son’s bottom, not overlapping on this first round of punishment. His son’s backside taking on a red hue, and then he reached the lower section of Richard’s bottom. He put a steadying hand on his son’s back as the belt slapped down and Richard jerked against his hand. Each slap of leather provoking a low grunt from the boy, but no more sound.

Henry covered every inch of Richards backside with heavy painful slaps of the belt for a third time. The boy remained stoic throughout, although his grunts of pain were more pronounced. Henry knew he wasn’t going easy on the boy, his backside was a deep red and he expected it to bruise. So he lightened the blows as he lectured his wayward son,

“You will not defy me boy, there will be no more plotting with Phillip, your Mother or brothers! You will set a better example to your little brother, or I will thrash you again and as often as I deem it necessary. Is that clear boy?”

Although the pain in his ass was making rational thinking a little difficult Richard still managed to roll his eyes. But answered appropriately, “Yes Father,” through gritted teeth. Although his dear father seemed to be forgetting that he didn’t live in the castle. And would put as much distance between himself and the damned belt at his earliest opportunity. But his mother hadn’t raised an idiot and he knew complete submission was best for the time being.  
And as he felt his father removed the hand from his back he hoped that meant his punishment was over,

“May I get up please, father?” He asked in a quiet respectful voice and waited for permission to do so.

Satisfied Henry slapped a fatherly hand onto Richards back and helped him up. Richard hauled his undergarments up and hissed as the fabric tormented his abused skin.

“May I return to my chambers?” He asked.  
“No boy, you may not, you will watch each other’s punishment. Take John from your brother,” Henry said as he beaconed Geoffrey forward to accept his chastisement.

Richard dragged his baby brother with him to stand near his mother. And they exchanged a look, and Eleanor smiled at his Son. Who gave very little outward sign of the thrashing he’d taken. Perhaps he stood a little stiffly and there was a little more colour in his cheeks. But her warrior had been very brave and his mother was proud of him. It was just an inconvenience that now they still had to stand around and wait for Henry to deal with the other two. 

Geoffrey dawdled as long as he could over undressing, in no rush to go though what he’d witnessed his older brother endure. He doubted that he’d be able to take it as stoically as Richard had, but would do his best not to embarrass himself too much. He hoped. 

Geoffrey bite back a cry of anguish as the belt found its target area on his bottom again. His posterior was flaming and he gripped the table with all his strength to stop himself from getting up. Then he felt a hand in the small of his back, holding him down and he was actually glad of it. Then a blow from the belt landed on the fullest part of his bottom again, and this time he was unable to hold back,”

“Ah! Oh my god, please father, no more!” He groaned but the next relentless slap of the belt landed and he jerked against his fathers restraining hand.

“Please...” he sobbed and collapsed forward onto the table in misery. 

Henry intended to paint his middle son’s backside the same shade of red as his eldest boy. So was not moved to give any leniency to Geoffrey and the boys were only one summer apart in age. So he completed a third circuit of punishing stripes of the belt before easing up and lecturing the boy. When it was over he helped Geoffrey up and once the lad had righted his clothes led him over to his brothers.

As he approached John went wide eyed and began to howl and try to break free for his brothers grip. Henry picked the boy up bodily and with him struggling wildly to get free, walked back over to the table. He still had his belt in his hand, but he surveyed the table and the hysterical boy. And concluded that the same manner of punishment was not going to work. So he tossed the belt onto the table and with one foot he dragged the bench closer and sat down upon it. He flipped the boy over his knees, yanked his nightshirt up until it flopped over the boys head. Leaving John’s naked bottom in just the right position for Henry’s hand. Before getting to business he hooked a foot over the boy’s flailing legs and settled his son tightly against his belly. Then slapped his hand down in a hard smack to the fullest part of Johns bottom. It took a second for the addition of actual pain to penetrate Johns overwrought brain. When it did he howled with feeling and wiggled his bottom for all he was worth. Henry smacked his youngest backside methodically from crest down to the lowest, tender spots, just above the boys thighs. Henry actually felt a little guilty that he’d neglected to give the child any discipline. And at age 16 John seemed less than pleased to be introduced to it. As he slapped the top of the child’s thighs firmly, Henry winced at the high pitched squeal as John wailed.

“Owww! No no no! Mother! Helpppp!” He screeched as his evil father beat him cruelly.

“You’ll get no quarter from that direction, I’m afraid little boy,” Henry said as he shifted John forward so he could administer the third round of punishment. The child was not going to like it, but his older brothers had received a hard belting. So to compensate Henry was going to focus on the tender skin on the underside of John’s bottom. Henry had decided on a bakers dozen as a reasonable amount of punishment to end with. He spread the smacks evenly on his boy’s bottom and tops of his thighs.

“Oh no, nooo! please father, I’ll be good, I’ll be so good! I won’t plot, I’ll be a very good boy, I promise. Just please...stop!” John wailed and tried to throw a hand back to protect his sore bottom. But his father just trapped it against his back and his cruelly hard hand kept slapping down on his sore bottom and legs. And he couldn’t even kick, or wiggle his bottom away from from the evil smacks. It was so unfair because he was the favourite! He cried and whined through every undeserved smack,

“I didn’t do anything wrong father! Oh please stop...I’m sorry...I did plot, but I won’t do it again!” The pain in his bottom was just too much and John just collapsed boneless over his father’s knee and cried while the king kept smacking his bottom relentlessly. Well it was in fact three more times, but the poor boy was too distraught to notice. 

Henry reached and pulled the boys night shirt down to cover his very red and sore posterior. Poor little John was feeling very sorry for himself right at that moment and wasn’t ready to stop crying yet. So Henry eased the boy up to sit him carefully on his knee. The boy weeping harder when his sore bottom come into contact with his fathers firm thighs. Henry petted the boy, a little self consciously, until John’s crying eased to a noisy sniffle.

Richard interrupted the sweet father and son moment, glaring at his whimpering, pathetic little brother.

“Now that we’ve all been thoroughly chastised father, am I excused to go to my room?” He asked with forced politeness.

Henry gestured to his still sniffling son,”put him to bed and then you’re excused,”

Richard looked like he would prefer to put John out of his misery in a more permanent way, but suppressed the tart reply on the tip of his tongue,”I shall deliver my dear little brother to his deserving wife, come boy,” he said as he dragged John off the King’s lap. Ignoring the whining complains about being comfy where he was.

Richard finally entered the sanctuary of his room after the nights unexpected events. He tossed his outer garments onto a chair and went to pour himself a goblet of strong wine. He tossed it down in one gulp and began to undress to retire for the night. He steadied himself with one hand on the chair back, sitting to take his boots off holding no appeal. He peeled the rest of his cloths off and took extra care uncovering his beaten ass. He tentatively rubbed at his swollen and sore bottom. Then carefully climbed into bed, it was a very sorry day indeed he thought. The one and hopefully only time his father would make him cry. He lay on his belly and pummelled his pillows into a comfortable nest, scrubbing away the tears running down his face. But he refused to sniffle, he was no John. With that final thought Richard drifted off to sleep.


End file.
